The People of Central City
by Jadeile
Summary: The Flash never asks his people for anything, completely content to protect them without an ulterior motive, without needing anything in return. Except this time. Because now he is kind of desperate and has to ask the people of his city for help. It's not like the city is in danger or like he is bleeding to death or something. No, it's something much simpler yet so crucial for him.


The Flash was extremely nervous to step onto the small stage in one of the parks in Central City. Not the biggest park —he didn't want to go quite that far— but it was a moderate sized one and a lot of people frequented it or just passed through it on their way to places. It was somewhat crowded right then too, and getting more so as the word got out that the Flash was there, and apparently planned to do a speech of some kind. His people were gathering around the stage curiously, all eyes pinned on him.

He really didn't want to do this, but he was actually getting a bit desperate here. So he took a deep breath and just got on with it before he got too nervous and could change his mind.

"Um, hello everyone", he said loudly, lacking a microphone or any other kind of device that would amplify his voice, but still doing his best to be heard. It helped that everyone went quiet the moment he started to speak; that his people honestly wanted to hear what he was about to say. It warmed his heart a little and made him hopeful that this would work, but did very little to soothe his nerves.

"You're probably wondering what's up, other than me on this stage", he said, and the crowd gave a collective chuckle at his poor attempt at a joke. It helped though, and he found himself relaxing a bit. "Yeah, I'm funny, but this is actually serious. Er, not serious like a threat to the city or anything, but serious as in kinda important as far as I'm concerned."

The crowd was so quiet and attentive that had he dropped a pin, he could have heard it hit the grassy ground.

"Er, right. I'll just get right down to it. I like helping you guys whenever you need me to, and chances are I've saved a bunch of you or someone you're close to, like a family member or a friend or a neighbour. And I usually ask for nothing in return, because hey, that's a superhero for you, selfless and helping for the sake of helping. Wouldn't have it any other way. But... erm..." he hesitated, really not liking what he was about to do. But he had to do it, and his people, the ones hanging on to his every word like he was the President or something, would understand. Surely.

He cleared his throat.

"The thing is, my alter ego lost his job a few days ago and—" he got interrupted by a collective gasp of shock, outrage and empathy. The crowd roared deafeningly, everyone trying to talk at once either to him or to each other and he couldn't make out any individual words in the mess.

For a second, he was afraid he had just single-handedly caused a riot. His eyes darted back and forth for a panic-filled moment before he got a hold of himself, waving his arms wildly to catch his people's attention again.

"Hey! Hey, listen! Calm down, you all! ...thank you", he said, after the people finally stopped yelling and started listening again. The intensity in their eyes was almost scary now, most of them projecting a protective aura in his general direction, like they wanted to fix all of his problems with their bare hands right then and there. He got the feeling that if he named his former employer right now, the man's life would turn into a living hell. And possibly become very short. He wasn't sure if he was more flattered or scared by the thought. In any case, he needed to hurry up with his speech before his people started drawing their own conclusions or got even more agitated. No time to sugarcoat things.

"Are we calm? We're calm. So, like I said, I suddenly find myself unemployed in the alter ego department, and that's kind of bad because no job means no income means less food. And I really need food to function. I mean, not just the way you guys do, but I literally burn like... a lot of calories every time I run around and I..." he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously, but forced himself to continue as he was just getting into the heart of the matter, the whole point of this thing. "I can't afford to buy all the food that I need. Like, not nearly enough of it. Nowhere near enough."

The crowd was restless now, but most of the people seemed to attempt to not interrupt him this time around, keeping their voices down while discussing this among themselves. The hum of low voices was considerably better than the yelling from earlier.

He cleared his throat, and people were looking at him again.

"I'm not asking for money here. I don't want it. I want to earn my own money once I find another job, but that might take a few more days and then it'll probably take a couple of weeks before I get my first paycheck. As much as I don't want to burden you guys or ask for anything... I mean, I don't save you on a daily basis with the hopes of getting anything in return. Err, I kind of have to ask for something now. So what I'm asking for, very nicely with a cherry on top..." he paused again, taking a deep breath, "If you feel like baking something, or maybe making an extra portion for your dinner, or ordering extra fries, or even sharing a bag of candies, I would really just appreciate receiving some food."

There, he said it. The bottom had been reached. The only way from here was up now.

He bent down and picked up a piece of paper from a small pile he had at the edge of the stage, then held it up for everyone to see.

"Here is the address any food you're willing to give can be delivered to for me to pick up. Obviously it's not my home address, but it's something. So, if you're willing to consider doing this, feel free to take one of these notes and—"

People rushed forward en masse, grabby hands snatching up every single paper he had written the address on, even the one he had been holding in his hand just then. He was also grabbed and pulled off the stage into a crushing hug by what seemed to be the whole retirement home of pie-smelling grannies, who proceeded to pet his head, biceps and back while cooing about what a poor boy he was and announcing their plan to take him home and feed him until he was fit to burst. All around him, past the granny barrier, people were promising to head straight home after his speech to make him the most delicious food that he had ever tasted, and pack it right up for him to pick up at his leisure. He shouldn't worry about a single thing. Some people even offered to hire him for whatever companies they had, which was not very practical considering his secret identity, but still a sweet gesture, nonetheless.

By the end of the day, he had eaten more than he had ever imagined he would have the chance to. His fridge was stocked, his pantry was bursting, and his freezer didn't have room for a morsel more. On top of that, he had even had to make multiple runs all the way to the North Pole to use the place as a substitute freezer for the food he couldn't fit in his apartment. And this was just the first day, without time for gossip to spread too far yet.

The people of Central City truly loved their hero.


End file.
